The gun kicks. There is the deafening slam of a gunshot. When I open my eyes it is to see Ingleman stumbling backwards, hands grasping at his neck. Blood escapes between his fingers. More than anything he looks surprised, astonished even. His eyes meet mine, but it's like he's looking past me, at some other person entirely. No recognition there. No more cruelty. And he stumbles again, this time towards the edge of the helipad.
Suddenly Laura's there, by his side, head down, determined. She's screaming, but I can't hear what. She shoves into him and sends him reeling and he stumbles like a drunk to the very edge of the platform and teeters there for just a second. Just a second and then he falls. I hear the thump of him landing like a sack of meat, and I know in that second that Ingleman is dead. The man who tortured me, who took Laura's brother, who organised the kidnap and vivisection of all those children is finally no more.
All the same I walk to the edge to check. He lies down there, broken and bloody, staring up with unseeing eyes.
A wave of tiredness and pain runs through me. My throat hurts. My lungs hurt. My leg is in agony. I've never felt this exhausted in my life, even after days spend in the labs. The gun falls from my hands, and for a moment I think I'm about to follow it, but Laura catches me by the shoulders and helps me to sit down on the edge of the helipad, then lie down. Distantly I can still here the shouts and shots of the battle being fought on the main deck of the ship. All I can see are the stars.
"It's okay," she says. "It'll be over soon. We'll get help soon." She's crying and I think that I'm crying too. "We're okay," she says, over and over. And then, just as I'm starting to feel drowsy she grabs my shoulder. "Look," she says, "Here they are." I raise my head just enough to see a small band of army men in black uniforms making their way towards us. Then I slump back to the deck and find Laura's face looking down at me, and I smile at her.
"Thank you," I say.
It's all confused after that. I drift in and out. One second I'm lying on the deck, and the next I'm being loaded onto a stretcher by the army men and carried down the stairs. Laura's by my side, holding my hand, and then she's gone. I drift out. I drift in. The men set me down on a trolley and I look around for my friend. At first I can't make her out from the confusion of bodies moving around me, but then I catch sight of her across the deck of the ship. She's hugging a blond-haired boy dressed in grey overalls, and he's hugging her back. I drift out. I drift in and Laura's there again, holding my hand, telling me that they found him, they found him, they found her brother. And the boy who helped me escape so long ago, so many long ages ago is there too smiling and holding my hand. And Laura's telling me that it was Mari, it was all down to Mari, she found our letter and she went straight to a friend of hers, a retired colonel, and he went straight to his friend, and by the time we were taken they were already planning a strike on the Academy. And Mari is waiting for us, Laura says, she wants to see us, she wants to see us, wants to talk to us . . . and so does every journalist in the country.
I drift out. The last thing I hear is Laura's voice. The last thing I feel is her hand on the side of my face. "It's over now, Lynch. It'll all be okay."
